Mirror Mirror
by Calcifersgrl
Summary: This is a retelling of Snow White that I wrote, except it has a twist. Please read and review


Mirror Mirror  
  
By Calcifersgrl  
  
Author's Note: I wrote this as an assignment for my creative writing class. The object was to retell a well-known fairytale and write it in first person. She gave me two plusses, which is the best you can get. She liked it, so I've decided to post this up here. I'm not entirely satisfied with it, so people PLEASe give me comments. One last thing: before I wrote this, my two favorite fairytales were Beauty and the Beast and Sleeping Beauty. Well now, I have grown to appreciate the tale of Snow White. On with the reading then! =)  
  
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Once upon a time, life was perfect. I say 'once upon a time' because there was one such time. But that time is nothing, it is the past, and something I cannot control. But here I am, dead to myself in life, dead to others in life, but alive in my mind. I am unconscious, yes, but my subconscious mind wanders. I go back, sorting through memories, watching my past in the darkness of my head, seeing my demise laid out before my eyes.   
I know where I am, but I cannot wake up. I know what has happened, but that cannot help me. They thought me dead when they slid me in the glass coffin. I know I am not. A poisoned apple is not enough to kill me. She has tried once, twice, thrice, all of them failing. She thinks she has won. She thinks she has killed off the competition. She thinks she is the fairest of all in the land. That is not so for I am still alive. In my unconscious state, time and I are not familiar. But I suppose she shall presently return to her castle and ask that mirror who is the fairest in the land - the mirror that caused all my troubles.   
In the Queen's room, hangs a mirror - a mirror of fine silver edge and carving. It is enough like a mirror to show images, but it is enough unlike a mirror to show images that are not our reflections. Here in her room lies her power.   
I had not taken her for a witch when she married my father, the king. She had not taken herself for the kind to resort to witchery and trickery. My father died when I was almost ten years old, and my stepmother became desolate. She had not married him for power or wealth, but for love. It was surprising for the nobles to grasp because my father was at least ten years older, but I know she loved him.   
To rid herself of her misery, she tried to amuse herself by sending her huntsmen off to gather game. Another tactic she tried was to pass through the markets and find cheap pretty things. It was not until she passed by one large market down yonder our palace when a dazzling mirror sticking out of a peddler's cart caught her eye. She bought it, and hung it upon my late mother's wall. At first glance, she could tell it was not ordinary, in fact, it was extraordinary. The mirror ensnared her in its dark web, taught her its evil secrets, its malevolent power, and soon, my stepmother became its human replica, acting as the mirror willed. Before the purchase of the mirror, my stepmother had showed me nothing but kindness and love. As she began the transformation from pure and loving to dark and ugly, her treatment of me changed. She blistered me with harsh words and cruel punishments. But I could not hate her; she was not at fault, just a mindless accomplice of the true mastermind: the mirror.   
The mirror was a tricky object with a mind of its own. It enjoyed sculpting chaos by its unfortunate words. My stepmother had always been a beauty. She had dark red hair, and eyes so light a shade of brown that they were honey. She was the sort of person born to be queen. Tall, proud, and vain. Her vanity and the mirror's malice caused my ultimate downfall: a sleeping death.  
"Mirror, Mirror on the wall,  
Who is the fairest of us all?"  
I often heard her calling to her mirror while passing her room. I always stopped to listen to the mirror's reply. It would answer:  
"You are the fairest of all, O Queen,  
The fairest our eyes have ever seen."  
I suppose the Queen should have gotten tired of hearing the same answer everyday for hours upon end, but she didn't. The mirror's answer satisfied her. I was right to assume that the mirror had gotten bored. One day, the queen said:  
"Mirror, Mirror on the wall,  
Who is the fairest of us all?"  
I was passing by at that time, and I stopped to listen, like I did every other day. The mirror's answer shocked and frightened me. It replied:  
"Fair is your beauty, Majesty,  
but there is a lovelier maid I see,  
one who is more fair than thee.  
Lips red as blood, hair black as ebony,  
and skin as white as snow . . ."  
I sucked in my breath, waiting to hear the Queen's response to that. She screamed, full of rage, and I was sure she would take her anger out on me. I waited behind the door where she would not be able to see me. Instead, her frenzied growl was directed at the mirror itself.   
"Ungrateful maggot," she said, spitting out each syllable, venom dripping. "I should smash you, then you will be cracked and broken and no longer worthy to sit on my wall!"  
I heaved a huge sigh of relief. She was not going to direct her anger on me, but she would still be in a terrible mood.  
"Wait, wait, O Queen," stammered the shaking voice. "I speak just the truth!"  
Liar, I thought savagely. When the Queen had left the room, I would go in there myself and smash its lying tongue.  
"Why do you not kill Blanche?" it suggested. "Then you will be the fairest of all. It would solve your problem."  
I fled to my room. I would not stay any longer to see if the Queen would kill me, for kill me she would. The mirror held her within its power. If she were to smash it, its hold would disappear, and she would not know what had befell her. I could not hope to smash it myself, no, not while she was looking for me. I would need to run away. I grabbed my weatherproof cloak, and headed out the castle's backdoor. I ran steadily, careful to make no noise. That is why both of us jumped - Robert the Queen's main huntsman and I - when I rounded the corner.  
"Princess," he stuttered, catching his breath. "You startled me."  
I smiled grimly. "Likewise. Robbie, you have not seen me. You do not know where I have gone. You will remain my faithful friend and save my hide, will you not?"  
"I have not seen you. I shall turn my back until you're gone," he retorted, but then his voice became gentle. "Oh Blanche, what is happening?"  
"I do not have much time," I murmured, keeping my voice low and drawing the hood over my head. "The Queen is to kill me if she can catch me. I must hide. Listen, all will be well again if you can sneak inside the castle and smash the Queen's mirror. It is the cause of this mess. Shatter it, and the Queen and I shall be well again. Goodbye, Robbie. I hope we shall meet again."  
"Wait," said Robert earnestly, his young face shining. "Bring this dagger with you. The forest is not the safest place to be." He slipped his prize dagger into my head, and I felt its power slide into me.  
"Thank you," I whispered. "I must go now. I will bring it back to you someday."  
True to his word, Robbie turned his back, and pretended to search through the straw. I ran off into the direction of the dark trees.  
I felt safer knowing I had a weapon with me. I clutched the dagger in my right hand, running through the forest. It would have been less hazardous if I had walked, but I had no time. Who knew if the Queen had discovered my departure already. Who knew what dogs she had sent to hunt me down. I kept on running. It was lucky that the forest was not littered with rocks, or I would have tripped. I had a clear view of what lay ahead of me, but still the darkness of my surroundings seemed to close upon me. The trees seemed to grow multiple eyes. Yellow blinking eyes in the hollows. The tree branches seemed to extend and reach for me with their bare ghostlike features. I tripped over a log that was conveniently placed in my path. I was up in a second, and veered off in another direction trying to shake off the reaching branches. I stumbled through bush after bush, some with thorns that scratched at my arms and tore at my dress.   
Blood was running down my arms, making dark splotches on the crimson gown, and marking the grass below me. It might have been my overly active imagination, but I could have sworn I heard low snarls in the distance. I began to see alert yellow eyes blazing at me in all the cracks and crevices of the dark forest. I held the dagger up for reassurance and ran on, clutching the fine velvet material of my dress. Inside I cursed myself for not having thought to wear a more suitable attire.   
I had been running a long time. My feet ached, contained in worn-out palace slippers. The blood had dried from my arms and clothes. My black hair had come loose, and blew all over my face. There had proved to be no wild beasts coming after me; that had been my imagination. Though I had thought I heard the horns of the huntsmen, none came after me; that too was my imagination. So when I saw a thin prick of light coming from up ahead, I believed my imagination was running away from me again. I was tired, yet I managed to pick up speed. The light got brighter and brighter as I came nearer and nearer. Feeling a wild burst of energy, I burst through the hedges . . . and tumbled into a clearing, where I collapsed with exhaustion.  
I woke to fourteen eyes crowding my vision. I had slept off my fatigue, and bolted upright with my right hand feeling for the dagger. I noticed it lying on the little table on my right, grabbed it, and held it up threateningly.  
"Who are you? Has the Queen sent you?"  
A kindly-looking dwarf came forward: "Now, now child. Do you really think if Queen Maudite had sent us, we would have let you stay in our house?"  
I reluctantly lowered the dagger and placed it back on the table. "I'm sorry," I confessed. "I haven't been in my right mind. The Queen is my stepmother and is going to kill me." I told them the whole sorry business, beginning with the purchase of the evil magic mirror and the Queen's transformation. By the time I told them how I had stumbled into their clearing, they were nodding sympathetically at me.  
"I knew there had to be a reason why we should name Maude Maudite," announced one of the dwarves.   
"What does Maudite mean?" I asked.  
"Accursed, wretched, ill-favored. A much more suitable name for her than Maude," he answered.  
"She's really not that bad," I said indignantly. All fourteen eyes stared at me. I flushed. "When she was Maude, she was kind. Oh, if only Robbie can get into the castle. Then he can destroy that despicable piece of glass, and I can go home again."  
"Well," interjected Herbert, another dwarf, "you can stay with us if you keep house, cook, wash, make the beds, sew, knit, keep everything tidy and clean, then you will have our protection and lack nothing."  
I agreed to their conditions, long though they were. I had never been brought up to do servant work, so I wasn't very good at meeting their needs. But Herman (the oldest dwarf) nodded encouragingly at me, and said that I did a better job than any of them. I was pleased with his comments, and the work seemed easier. All day long, the dwarfs dug for gold; in the evening they came home, and they ate the dinner I prepared for them. Every morning before they left Herman said:   
"Blanche, beware of Maudite. She will know you are here. Trust no one who passes by."  
I never had to worry about anything. Days flew by where all I did was perform my daily chores. Often I was bored and had nothing to do. I had always enjoyed singing, so I would sing songs to myself.  
One day, an old peddler woman knocked on the door, crying out: "Fine wares to sell! Fine wares to sell!"  
I had been rocking in a chair, having finished all my chores, and got up to open the door. The woman was quite old and wrinkly. Her eye sockets dragged, and when she spoke again, I saw that her teeth were rotten. I felt enough pity for the old woman, that I ignored Herman's warning.  
"Good day. What do you have to sell?"  
"Good wares, fine wares," proclaimed the woman, her hand waving. "Laces of all colors." The weathered hand held up a pretty lace of crimson silk. "Pretty, pretty red," she cackled. "It would match that fine dress you are wearing." I bought it, admiring its intricate pattern of roses and vines. "What a pretty figure you have, child! Let me lace you up properly."  
I suspected nothing. I obliged the woman to lace me up. For an old woman, her fingers sure worked quickly. I caught my breath; the laces were so tight that I could hardly breathe.  
"Untie me," I croaked, gasping. "It's too tight! It's too tight." I fell down in a pretend dead faint, sure that the woman would untie me once she saw how tight they really were.  
"Now you are not the fairest anymore," tittered the old woman madly. She hastened away, and I was left alone. I slowly got up. I could hardly breath, and what little breaths I could take were not enough. My lungs burned, and I longed to take a breath. I hobbled over to the bedroom where my dagger lay waiting, its blade winking from the sunlight. Thank god for Robbie's dagger, I thought, as I sliced the lace in two. I could breathe easily again. I had never been more glad to feel the expansion and retraction of my ribs as my lungs filled with air. When the dwarves came home that night, I did not tell them about Maudite having visited me. My head hung shamefully that night, but they did not notice. I was lucky they had not for noticed for they would have scolded me; my shame would have deepened so much I would not be able to bear it. From then on, I resolved to heed Herman's warning.  
But the days that passed were so long and dreary, I was happy to have my third visitor in that week. Previously, there had been two gypsy women who had sold me spices and hazelnuts. No harm had come from admitting them to the house, so when another gypsy showed up, I ignored Herman's warning once more.  
"Hello," I said greeting the gypsy. She was older looking, with white wisps of hair coming from under her headpiece. When she spoke to me, her teeth were healthy-looking and clean. Ever since Maudite had tricked me with her disguise, I had been careful to look at my visitors' teeth.   
"Combs for the pretty lady! Just a penny for one," coaxed the gypsy. She displayed a flowered white comb. It was so pretty that I could only stare. "See?" She held up the comb to the sunlight, and it sparkled when the rays hit it. I had to buy it. I had never owned a comb that pretty before because Maudite had not let me enjoy much luxury. I had never wanted anything so badly. After I bought it, the gypsy woman coaxed me to let her comb my hair. "Such pretty black hair, the color of ebony and raven feathers!" she proclaimed. "I shall comb your hair at once for it has not been properly done!"  
There was no harm, I thought, in letting the old gypsy comb my hair. But the minute the comb settled in my black hair, I began to feel drowsy and dizzy. I collapsed onto the ground, too light-headed to stand.  
"Now, you paradigm of beauty, this is the end of you, and I shall be fairest of all!" said the gypsy, discarding her fake accent. She scurried away, cackling insanely all the while. With the last of my strength, I yanked the poisonous comb out of my hair, feeling the dizziness rush out of me. Curse that Maudite, I thought ferociously. I was such a fool. Twice, my stepmother had tried to kill me, and twice I had avoided death. But only slightly, I realized. She would keep on trying, and I would try to avoid death with the best of my abilities. But one day, she might try, and succeed. Then I would be dead and the mirror would have won. The best and only thing to do was break the mirror.  
Robbie, I thought mournfully. Where had he been all this time? The Queen was away, that left him time to sneak into the castle. But he hadn't. Maybe he wasn't as true of a friend as I had thought him to be. I sighed. I would have to keep my faith in him. Maybe the Queen had sent Robbie on a hunt, and he had not known she would be gone.  
That night, the dwarves tramped in again after a long day's work mining for diamonds. They slurped up their soup heartily. Only Herman noticed my face.   
"Why do you look so ill at ease, my child?" he asked, his face frowning in concern.  
I could not keep my words to myself, and they tumbled off the tip of my tongue. I told him about Maudite coming here twice, first as an old woman, and second as a gypsy. Just as I feared, he clucked his tongue disapprovingly.  
"Haven't you heeded my warnings, Blanche?" he asked. "You must not trust anyone outside of us. Any person who wanders through these woods could be Maudite. She will not rest until she can kill you, or until Robbie smashes that dreadful mirror of hers."  
"What do you think are the chances of Robbie destroying the mirror?" I asked miserably, more abashed of myself than ever.  
"Slim," came Herman's curt reply. He did not talk to me the rest of the evening, so I went to bed early.   
Weeks passed, and I admitted no more visitors to the little house. I became very withdrawn and sang no more. It seemed I would never be able to have human company while the mirror was at large. The dwarves were nice, but they weren't human. They did not have the same concerns as humans, and they did not like to talk very much. I was more lonely than ever, with no passerby to converse with.  
The sun was starting to set one day when an old man selling apples knocked on the door. I peeped out of the window to see who it was. I debated with myself, going over Herman's admonition, and my own overwhelming isolation. The knocking persisted, and I finally opened the door.  
"Would you like an apple?" asked the old man politely. He shifted the straw basket in his arm and brought out a beautiful apple - white with red cheeks. My mouth dropped open in wonder. It was beautiful and I longed for it. I used to eat apples all day long when my father had been alive, but when Maude turned into Maudite, I was not allowed the luxury of an apple.  
"I would," I acknowledged, but I did not take the beautiful apple that he offered me.   
"What?" he questioned. "Are you afraid of poison? This apple will not harm you. Look here, I shall cut the apple in two pieces; you shall have the white side, and I shall have the red side." The old man reached into his pocket for a small blade and cut the apple in two. He offered me the white half.  
I stared at it. It was so beautiful and its delicious scent wafted my way. I eyed the white half warily, and said, "I would rather have the red half, thank you." I watched the old man carefully for signs of hesitance or anger. There was none. The old man shrugged his shoulders and handed me the red half. I gave him the white half, and he bit into it.  
"Mmm," said the old man, his eyes closed and a smile upon his face. "Delicious. You have to try it."  
I gingerly took a small bite of the red apple. It was delicious, just like the old man said. But just as the sweetness touched my tongue, a sensation came over me. Everything blurred rapidly before my eyes, and I stumbled backward. The apple flew from my hand, and I fell in a heap on the wooden floor.  
"Dumb fool," said the old man, revealing his true shape. Maudite, I thought hazily. I had thought to be clever when I had asked for the exchange. Maudite must have known I would take more caution. The red half was really meant for me! Oh, what a fool I was. "As white as snow, as red as blood, as black as ebony you may be. But I am the fairest of all now! You are dead and no more than a corpse!" Maudite gave a hideous laugh. "Sleep well, my darling Blanche!" Her laugh rattled off the walls, and her footsteps echoed. My eyes were robbed of all sight as blackness overtook them. I could feel my life fading away, and my eyes drooped shut.  
I will not die, I thought fiercely to myself. Maudite and the mirror shall not win! Repeating those words to myself gave my mind the strength to return from the dark. Maudite's poison was not as powerful as she had thought, I discovered. But it served its purpose well. An hour or so later, the seven dwarves returned. They were not human and did not know the concept of hearts and heartbeats. They saw me on the floor, my chest still, and my fingers cold. They built a glass coffin for me, I knew that much. I did not know how much time had past. I stayed in my dead sleep; the only part of me awake was my subconscious mind. Oh, Robbie, I thought. She has killed me off well! You have not played your part to perfection!  
Suddenly, a tingling warmth spread up from my toes. Breath returned to my lungs, and my lips parted slightly. I flickered my eyes open. I sat up with a gasp, and the poisoned apple bit flew out of my mouth. The seven dwarves had been kneeling around the coffin, the glass top lying on the grass. They all wore black garments dyed with chimney soot. From the way, all the startled dwarves turned their face to mine, I saw that tears shone on their faces. A fierce fondness came over me for them.  
"Blanche," croaked Herman, a smiling cracking his old face. "We thought Maudite had gotten you." All at once, the eight of us were laughing and crying and smiling like there was no tomorrow.  
"I thought she got me too," I said. I hugged all of them two at a time. "But I'm alive. That must mean that Robbie has smashed the mirror." The fourteen eyes got wider as I continued. "That means Maudite is Maude again! Oh, I must go back to the castle at once!" I knelt and looked at them seriously. "It would mean a lot to me if you came."  
"Sure," said Herbert excitedly.  
The journey through the forest did not seem long, though it really took many hours. But the eight of us were so filled with joy that the time passed quickly. Before long, we had reached the gates of my castle. Waiting uncertainly by the front door was a young man with chestnut brown hair. He was whistling to himself aimlessly, shifting his feet from side to side.  
"Is that," whispered Herman, nudging my side, "the infamous Robbie?"  
I blushed scarlet, but decided I could play his game too. I waved my hand furiously and shouted, "Robbie! Robbie!"  
A look overcame Robbie's face, and he came running over crying, "Blanche! Blanche! I mean Princess!" He unlocked the gate, and I flew into his arms. "It took a long time," he said, hugging me fiercely. "The Queen sent me out with the other huntsmen to hunt this wild boar. We never found it. Then she sent me away again some time later to hunt game. I didn't have a chance to smash the mirror until late this morning. Some of my fellow huntsmen tipped me off that the Queen hadn't come back yet from her journey. I thanked them, and snuck into the castle. You should have heard the curses that the magic mirror flung at me when I took it off the wall. Maggot head! Camel's hump! Those were only a few directed at me. But when he made some references to my mother, well, that's when I dropped him." He released me from his embrace, and I looked at his eyes, alight with happiness.   
"I'm so glad you're back. I'm so glad I could do something for you." He started to babble on about how there were horrible rumors saying that the Queen had done away with her daughter. "I tried and tried. First there were her attendants. You have no idea how ferocious women get when you don't obey their orders . . ."  
All this time, he gestured with his hands, and I stared at him. He didn't get a hint. "You have no idea how ferocious I get when I don't get my orders obeyed."  
He stopped talking and looked at me blankly: "What orders?"  
Oh, he was too cute. He made a very handsome confused huntsman. "Kiss me, you fool!" I retorted.  
"Oh," he said and did so with great relish. We broke apart, and I had to ignore the dwarves who were cheering with so much vigor. The youngest dwarf, who was named Huey, stuck both fingers in his mouth and gave a loud whistle. And I had thought they didn't behave like humans. I was wrong; there probably was a lot that I did not know about my seven little friends.  
"Oh stop it," I said, blushing like mad. The dwarves cheered even louder.  
"Good gracious," demanded a musical voice, "what is all this noise about?" A woman with long auburn hair and amber eyes stood outside the castle entrance. I was not sure how long she had been there because there was a faint amused grin on her lips. I blushed, thinking she had heard the whole affair. Two servants dragging a shattered mirror frame with shards of glass in their arms followed her. She looked wide-eyed at me and cried, "Blanche darling? Where did you go?" I rushed forward to meet her embrace. "Darling, you are so dirty! And your hair - twigs in it!" She looked severely at the two servants who were dumping the broken mirror in the trash bin. "Henry, Carl, tell my hairdresser to come to Blanche's room right away! This is an emergency!" As I watched the two servants scurry off, I felt as if I could explode with happiness.  
"Mother," I said, a grin on my face. "Let me introduce you to some of my dearest friends." I introduced Herman, Herbert, Huey, and the four other dwarves to my step-mother. They behaved graciously, although I could see the wheels in their heads running, trying to get used to her as someone who wasn't Queen Maudite - accursed, wretched, ill-favored.  
The Queen eyed Robbie and I critically, standing side by side. "Looks like we'll have a wedding coming up soon," she said.   
Robbie looked sheepish, and I blushed, again, for the hundredth time.  
"Well, darling," the Queen chided me, "what are you waiting for? My hairdresser is waiting to fix that awful bird nest of yours!"  
She led the way back into the castle. The dwarves and Robbie followed. I paused in my step and looked at the trash bin. The broken shards that had once been the malicious mirror twinkled sadly in the waning sun. Mirror, Mirror on the wall, I thought smiling to myself. Then I ran up the road to catch up with the others.  
  
  
~ The End ~  
  
  



End file.
